Page 24 of Blind Trust
Two years ago?
Was this another twisted joke concocted by Jerry? Her jaw ached with frustration over the expectancy that there was somethingvaluable on the flash drive. But a two-year-old news article did not explain the harrowed look on Genevieve’s face, the way her eyes kept darting around likeshewas afraid someone was followingher. Why—
“Yoo-hoo!”
Lyla jumped at the shrill voice, jerking her head to the left, where only a piece of glass separated her from her parents’ neighbor Elizabeth Davenport.
Heart pounding, she glanced around Elizabeth’s face pressed against her car window and saw her mother, Catherine, standing on the veranda giving her an apologetic shrug.
“Lyla! Hellooo!” Elizabeth’s coral-colored fingernails tappity-tapped against the glass. “Are you coming inside?”
For a fraction of a second, Lyla considered throwing her car into gear and zooming off, even at the risk of potentially running over Mrs. Davenport’s toes. But she wouldn’t embarrass her mom by behaving rudely.
Instead, she reluctantly closed her laptop, set it on the passenger seat, and pasted a smile on her face before opening her door.
“Hellooo, my dear.” Elizabeth Davenport didn’t wait until Lyla was out of the car before she came in for a hug. One that left a haze of sweet, floral perfume behind when she let Lyla go. “Were you going to sit out here all day?”
“Lyla, I wasn’t expecting you until later this evening.” Her mother walked over and hugged her like she hadn’t just seen her a few days ago. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Director Walsh let me bring my work up here so I could help you with the hunt.”
“Mrs. Davenport just dropped by to ask about our caterer for the drag hunt.” Her mom smiled politely. “I told her we were trying something new this year and using food trucks, but that I would save her generous suggestions for another time.”
Mrs. Davenport grinned. “And perfect timing because I get to see you.”
“I can’t think of anyone luckier than me.” Lyla’s mom shot her analmostindecipherable look. “Luckier than I?”
Behind Mrs. Davenport and out of her line of sight, Lyla’s mom rolled her eyes. Catherine Fox was nothing if not tactful. A product of her gentry lineage that seemed to have skipped a generation.
“Will you be joining the hunt, Mrs. Davenport?”
Mrs. Davenport’s high chirp of a laugh caused Lyla to cringe a little. “Oh, no, dear. I’ve left my riding days behind, but do you know who will be in attendance?”
Please don’t say it.Please don’t say it. It was clear from the look on her face that she really wasn’t waiting for Lyla to answer.Please don’t say it.
“Mason!” Mrs. Davenport’s excitement came out a near squawk. “He’s down from New York City for a bit. Isn’t that nice?”
Lyla’s disdain for Mrs. Davenport did not extend to her son. They grew up together and were close friends until going their separate ways for college and work. But in those thirteen years of friendship, Mason’s mom never hid her desire to see the two of them date and then marry. Thankfully, Mason was a lot like Lyla and not one to conform to his mother’s expectations. But given the way Mrs. Davenport was eyeing Lyla expectantly, the woman did not give up easily.
“Oh, Elizabeth, if Mason is in town, I don’t want to take you and Frank away from him. We have plenty of volunteers for Saturday if the two of you want to spend the weekend with him doing something else.”
Lyla flashed her mom an appreciative smile, but it was short-lived when Mrs. Davenport tsked.
“Certainly not.” Mrs. Davenport ran a hand over her coiffed hair—a style that hadn’t changed in all the years Lyla had known her. “The Davenports have always participated in the Whitlock Estate Hunt. It’s been a tradition for years.” Her hazel eyes looked Lyla over and she smiled. “Besides, I know Mason is anxious tocatch up with Lyla.” Mrs. Davenport stepped closer. “Did I mention he’s interviewing for a position at thePost?”
Lyla stopped her fake smiling, her aching cheeks grateful. “New York Post?”
“Washington Post.”
Oh, she did not like the way Mrs. Davenport was eyeing her. “I, uh, I thought Mason liked New York City?”
Mrs. Davenport waved her hand as if she were brushing away such a silly notion. “You know Rock Hill has always had a piece of his heart. Or maybesomeonehas.” A look settled into the overpowdered features of Mrs. Davenport’s face, and Lyla’s stomach clenched. “You know, Mason isn’t seeing anyone, and aren’t you—”
“I’m dating someone,” Lyla blurted out.
The shock on Mrs. Davenport’s face matched the look lighting Lyla’s mom’s eyes. “You are?” She rounded on Lyla’s mom. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Oh, um, well, I think it’s anewrelationship.”
